tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29350433979503411672017-07-23T02:21:02.050-07:00The Winnipeg DandelionA BLOG ABOUT LIVING IN (204).Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-16064453356672366762015-07-10T12:18:00.000-07:002015-07-10T13:40:46.114-07:00City Councillors - What is my brain actually worth to you?<div class="p1"><span class="s1">Dear, Co</span>un. Russ Wyatt (Transcona), Coun. Jeff Browaty (North Kildonan), Coun. Ross Eadie (Mynarski), Coun. Shawn Dobson (St. Charles) and Coun. Jason Schreyer (Elmwood-East Kildonan),&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">Five weeks ago, a car hit me as I rode my bike in an unprotected bike lane on Garry Street. I was left with a serious concussion, a large cut on my nose and various bruises. The doctors and nurses at the Misericordia&nbsp;Health Centre&nbsp;told me, I was lucky — they've seen much worse vehicle and cyclist accidents.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">I consider myself lucky, too. However, since this accident, my quality of life has drastically changed. I can't play sports, I can't read for extended periods of time, I have trouble focusing and remembering things. I get pounding headaches that start mid-way through the day and continue into the evening.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">Yet, one of the worst outcomes from this accident is that I am unable to ride my bike.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">For the past five years, I commuted to and from university, college and my job on my bicycle during the summer months. At 26 years old, I never owned my own vehicle up until a few weeks ago.&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">When I bike, I always use caution — never trusting drivers to understand unprotected bike lanes. I feel drivers and cyclists have always struggled to share the road in Winnipeg. And&nbsp;at the scene of my accident, a number of cyclists stopped to help me with one cyclist revealing a car had already hit her this year. I was taken aback by her frankness, and the conscious resignation she and I now understand that as cyclists,&nbsp;our commute is a risk we take — a risk that could cost us our lives.</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">Councillors, I know I am a stranger to you, but what if I was a cyclist you knew and cared about deeply — would you still argue against the&nbsp;Pedestrian and Cycling Strategy?&nbsp;Would my brain still not be worth more than&nbsp;0.4 per cent of the capital budget&nbsp;to you?&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">I want you to understand that the five minutes I spend riding in the protected lanes on Assiniboine Avenue are the only time I feel safe during my 25-minute&nbsp;ride to and from work.&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div class="p1"><br /></div><div class="p1">I know that I am just one person, but during the months of May and June, there are an estimated&nbsp;<a href="http://bikewinnipeg.ca/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Commuter-Cycling-in-Winnipeg-2007-2014-Summary-Sept-10.pdf">13,789 daily cyclists commuting to and from the downtown area.</a>&nbsp;Collectively, our limbs, brains and lives are worth<a href="http://www.winnipegfreepress.com/local/City-to-encourage-walking-cycling-to-work-with-proposed-330-million-plan-302170511.html"><span class="s2">&nbsp;$330 million over the next 20 years</span></a>.&nbsp;I sincerely hope most of us will be around to see this plan come to fruition; because, as I recently learned, it is a very real&nbsp;possibility&nbsp;that some of us won't&nbsp;be.</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1">Please reconsider your stance on the Pedestrian and Cycling Strategy, and on your commute home tonight, please watch out for cyclists.&nbsp;</div><div class="p2"><br /></div><div class="p1">Josie Loeppky</div><span style="color: #191919; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14.3999996185303px;"><br /></span>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-71529892963175341342013-08-23T09:38:00.000-07:002013-08-23T09:53:14.698-07:00Street Harassment in WinnipegAt exactly 7:57 AM every weekday morning, I lock my front door to my River Heights home, march down my steps and head towards my bus stop. My route is always the same; I cross the street Warsaw Avenue&nbsp;to get to my bus bench on Corydon, where I wait exactly three minutes for the number 18 to come pick me up. It's a simple, boring, early morning routine that we all experience in our daily lives.<br /><br />But one day this Spring, my morning routine was interrupted. I crossed the street, on my usual route, when I hear a "<span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_noSuggestion GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="70f18dfe-c929-49ab-beba-d72082a594c1" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="b5fee153-0c25-4151-9fe7-eb94aad8b023" grcontextid="yewww:0">yewww</span>" from a few feet in front of me. I look up and notice a 60-something-year-old man cat calling me from his parked white mini van.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g-cp319G6mQ/UheLzxgdnLI/AAAAAAAAAnU/18mphS8s7LQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-08-23+at+11.21.14+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="259" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g-cp319G6mQ/UheLzxgdnLI/AAAAAAAAAnU/18mphS8s7LQ/s640/Screen+shot+2013-08-23+at+11.21.14+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br />I've experienced street harassment&nbsp;before, in fact, many times while going to school downtown either waiting for the bus or walking home from work. Usually, I think nothing of it. I do the same thing every time it happens:&nbsp;try not to make eye contact, make no acknowledgement of the person yelling and keep walking towards my destination.<br /><br />But it was something about being face-to-face with this shaggy loser shook me.<br /><br />Maybe it was because I hadn't even had my morning coffee yet, maybe it was because he was so close to me or maybe it was the interruption&nbsp;in my morning routine altogether. Either way, the interaction bugged me more than the usual "<span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_noSuggestion GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="a984d842-ab24-4063-87a7-f1b16a54b23e" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="2f0c38f3-65b0-459d-adcb-c768161ad11b" grcontextid="yeewwww:0">yeewwww</span>"'s and "<span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_noSuggestion GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="b92ff250-4b40-4ac4-89d3-b9023f7f4567" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="2f0c38f3-65b0-459d-adcb-c768161ad11b" grcontextid="heeyyyy:1">heeyyyy</span>"'<span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="dd300532-3743-4abc-90a3-82810c1e7375" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="2f0c38f3-65b0-459d-adcb-c768161ad11b" grcontextid="s:2">s</span> I hear from passing cars.<br /><br />I tried to not think much about this interaction until yesterday.<br /><br />Alex Freedman interviewed <a href="http://winnipeg.ihollaback.org/">Jodie Layne, director of "Hollaback! Winnipeg"</a>&nbsp;on the CBC morning show and Jodie put what I was thinking into words: that it's not okay. All these years I felt ashamed for getting yelled at by passing cars. Like my outfit was too revealing or that I exuding&nbsp;some sort of sexual energy that welcomed <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="aa880d2f-4f52-4ebd-a247-e3031e579a0d" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="76cf9941-e60d-4a43-9a81-bc5ed1c93b89" grcontextid="men:0">men</span> to yell at me. But in fact, that isn't true. I'm a 25 year-old young professional who wears long skirts and cardigans to work everyday and I am certainly NOT inviting attention. It's early, I'm tired and I just want to get to my bus stop in peace.<br /><br />Jodie also gave me an idea: she said to turn it back on them. Take a picture of the harasser and upload it. So that's what I'm going to do next time I encounter&nbsp;Mr. White Van. Instead of cowering with my head down, suppressing my rage to the pit of my stomach: I'm going to subject him to the feeling of shame he subjected me to.<br /><br />Since the face-to-face encounter, the old scumbag has yelled at me a few times from his van. Either in passing or while he's parked. I would like to get the chance to snap his pic, but since then, I'm much more cautious on my route to the bus stop. I carefully eye the corner where our encounters usually occur and proceed warily. I guess street harassment has a more powerful grasp on me than I thought.<br /><br /><br />Join the fight against street harassment in Winnipeg, visit&nbsp;<a href="http://winnipeg.ihollaback.org/">http://winnipeg.ihollaback.org/</a>&nbsp;and share your story.Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-14140514782214285492013-07-12T09:58:00.003-07:002013-07-12T13:09:15.333-07:00Honest Bloggin'I haven't been posting on my blog lately because I've been busy adjusting to real life in an office.<br /><br />My new job at <span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="f73f4867-9e72-4263-b58b-21daadcbf5b0" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="78207a09-22d5-4a04-833d-e755675dbd90" grcontextid="Honet Agency:0">Honet Agency</span> is nothing short of rad. That said, it's quite the change from student life to desk job life. Instead of eating KD every night, I now eat steak. I sleep eight hours a night and go to bed at a reasonable hour. I no longer go out on weekdays and live for the weekend. These are just some of the basic changes in my new life but here's <a href="http://www.honestagency.com/2013/07/gimme-that-3-oclock-sugar-rush/">my interpretation</a>&nbsp;of day-to-day life in an office.<br /><br />And yes, I originally blogged it on the Honest blog, not my own.<br /><br /><h1 style="background-color: white; border-bottom-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); border-bottom-style: solid; border-width: 0px 0px 1px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 26px; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 5px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="6d23d754-5e07-447e-a9aa-e187146db4e8" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="74951abf-eec3-49e6-9786-8eb2ced1851f" grcontextid="Gimme:0">Gimme</span> That 3 O’clock Sugar Rush</h1><div class="bdate" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #777777; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 11px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 5px 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="meta-prep meta-prep-author" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Authored by</span>&nbsp;Josie Loeppky<span class="meta-sep" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">,</span>&nbsp;<a href="http://www.honestagency.com/2013/07/gimme-that-3-oclock-sugar-rush/" rel="bookmark" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #bcb458; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;" title="4:10 pm"><span class="entry-date" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #777777; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">July 9, 2013</span></a></div><div class="blogMainContent" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 16px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 10px 0px 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><div style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #777777; float: left; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; line-height: 22px; margin-top: 10px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 15px; vertical-align: baseline; width: 558px;">Oh, hi there.<br /><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />You may not know me around the blog, most likely because I'm new to these parts. I'm Josie, the "Communications Coordinator" aka&nbsp;<a href="http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Girl%20Friday" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #bcb458; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Girl Friday</a>.<br /><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />I've only been around Honest for two months, but that's not to say I don't understand the ins and outs of office life already. You know what I'm&nbsp;<span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="14fd82d8-0007-42bb-b807-b448db02bb78" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="531ebf88-b28c-4acc-bd27-c2401d499caf" grcontextid="talkin:0">talkin</span></span>' about: the morning coffee routine, the&nbsp;slow sift through today's paper, the 10 glasses of water you drink a day because it allows you to get up from&nbsp;desk and stretch your legs.<br /><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Office life&nbsp;<span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="d133caa2-7fd1-4c2c-92ad-08aca3fa0379" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="021e3133-0553-4eb1-b98f-5b82cfa5b73b" grcontextid="ain't:0">ain't</span></span>&nbsp;so bad. The routine is comforting. The habitual aspects of it are soothing. Becoming better friends with coworkers than your own mother is a natural, and most of the time, an easy progression. And, at least for me, midday client/staff meetings are a treat.<br /><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />That said, there's one thing about office life I can't seem to find a solution to: the three o'clock doldrums.<br /><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />As a student for the past four years, the three o'clock doldrums weren't something I had to deal with. You're tired? You find a semi-quiet place in the school and take a nap. But no dice in the office world. No, no!&nbsp;<span style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><span class="GINGER_SOFATWARE_noSuggestion GINGER_SOFATWARE_correct" ginger_sofatware_markguid="e12cf17a-4d4c-4c0c-9430-8c591d5244d9" ginger_sofatware_uiphraseguid="79d14528-4a95-47c5-803a-9390467d8305" grcontextid="Midafternoon:0">Midafternoon</span></span>&nbsp;means it's time to pound back the sugar, make the coffee extra strong and work through the next hour like you're a sandbag in Calgary. If you make it to 3:30, without dozing off, you're in the clear. Congrats! You're in the final stretch of the day.<br /><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" /><a href="http://www.honestagency.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/sugarrush.png" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #bcb458; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;"><img alt="sugarrush" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-5546" height="548" src="http://www.honestagency.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/sugarrush.png" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; clear: both; float: left; margin: 10px 0px 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; width: 558px;" width="558" /></a><br /><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Anyway, that's my interpretation of office life. If you have a better solution to the doldrum problem, please feel free to&nbsp;<a href="mailto:josie@honestagency.com" style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px; color: #bcb458; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">email me</a>.<br /><br style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />PS. Honest just got a candy wall!</div></div>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-76852189872821880432013-04-05T12:07:00.001-07:002013-04-05T13:15:00.415-07:00Goodbye #CreCommFor the last two years, my life has been dedicated to school. A little program called <i>Creative Communications </i>(aka CreComm).<br /><div><br /></div><div>Today was my last day of school... possibly ever in life.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ANOPiUjqLOE/UV8fXn7bhpI/AAAAAAAAAhw/S6JM2DKcM38/s1600/408061_10151314658075390_1671850631_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ANOPiUjqLOE/UV8fXn7bhpI/AAAAAAAAAhw/S6JM2DKcM38/s400/408061_10151314658075390_1671850631_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I was expecting firing cannons and for confetti to flutter down from the ceiling. For Champagne to flow from the Atrium rafters at Red River College. And for me and my fellow classmates to have a good ol' cry in our homeroom, The Agency.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But none of that has happened. And it probably won't.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not saying I'm disappointed... I think I'm in disbelief. In disbelief that I will no long have to search for hours for the perfect font to use on my most recent assignment. No longer have to move words around on a screen over and over until header finds a gentle balance between itself and the subhead. No longer will I have access to my little cave, my edit suite in the basement of the college.&nbsp;I won't have to get up at 6 A.M. to make it to school for 8 A.M. after staying at the college til' 12:30 at night on a Sunday.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I will no longer have to wonder "What's due next?", "When can my group get together?", and "Did I auto-fail that last assignment?".&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe I'll have time to start cooking (and eating) and gain back that 18 lbs I lost in the past two years.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>But mostly, I'm kinda sad.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KaJ5RvxERhE/UV4b41zR23I/AAAAAAAAAhY/ZT05fI8KAPU/s1600/541598_10152585391425012_1178597204_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KaJ5RvxERhE/UV4b41zR23I/AAAAAAAAAhY/ZT05fI8KAPU/s400/541598_10152585391425012_1178597204_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>My Red River College experience has had it ups and downs but overall I am going to miss seeing familiar faces everyday. I'm going to miss knowing that I can call at least ten different people to vent about the most recent assignment, how much we have to do or my most recent grade.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm going to missing knowing someone is there for you at all times to let you know a due date, when the camera equipment room is open or that there is for sure at least two-to-eight friends at the Kingshead having a much deserved beer at pretty much any time of the day.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, that's what I'm going to miss.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oV8jG3B5H4g/UV8kDA0tTxI/AAAAAAAAAh4/IIFZox8l02g/s1600/photo+(2).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oV8jG3B5H4g/UV8kDA0tTxI/AAAAAAAAAh4/IIFZox8l02g/s320/photo+(2).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The end of college marks a very anticlimactic end to the school years portion of my life. And the fat lady didn't even sing. Perhaps I am getting a little emotional because it's the last day, and I tend to forget the bad and remember all the good. But from what I remember right now, it was great. And I wouldn't trade my college experience for the world.<br /><br />You, CreComm Class of 2013, are awesome. And you are what made the last two years awesome.<br /><h3 style="text-align: center;">Thank you.&nbsp;</h3></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HEzhzFJiIos/UV8d2RV05iI/AAAAAAAAAho/i7Xud-wGYnA/s1600/IMG_8054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HEzhzFJiIos/UV8d2RV05iI/AAAAAAAAAho/i7Xud-wGYnA/s400/IMG_8054.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The best parts:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Producing the best project I can think of, my podcast.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Meeting great new friends, most of which I hope to be friends with for the rest of my life (you know who you are, I love you).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Meeting my boyfriend (you also know who you are and I also love you).</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">-Discovering my love for advertising, radio, and live television.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TGiOsJ2_Ev0/UV8vN3sC8PI/AAAAAAAAAiA/SeSI-ec3wHk/s1600/photo+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TGiOsJ2_Ev0/UV8vN3sC8PI/AAAAAAAAAiA/SeSI-ec3wHk/s200/photo+(3).JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-27661752253167952922013-02-01T11:36:00.000-08:002013-02-01T12:14:26.617-08:00I've been IKEA'ed<br /><div class="MsoNormal">9:30 AM on a cold Monday morning, the IKEA line has already <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="formed:0" grmarkguid="b2153029-3477-4a68-bed1-f82e4df4ab93" gruiphraseguid="93a161a9-a6c8-41c3-b929-8bb03a472449">formed</span>. I felt slightly ashamed waiting for the doors to open behind the walkers, <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="the:0" grmarkguid="4b3595d5-fb43-44fe-b82a-b1f0b9055152" gruiphraseguid="badfd857-7b30-4501-8069-32845fc14321">the</span> silver hairs and the canes. They’re, or rather, we’re, lined up for the $1.50 breakfast and to take advantage of the free coffee before the clock <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="strikes:0" grmarkguid="3959dd3c-2816-404d-a37f-404dde4de3e3" gruiphraseguid="18cbf89f-3d24-4c72-8b30-abed23fe22be">strikes</span> ten. I get it- it’s Winnipeg and we’re known for being frugal. But I <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="can’t:0" grmarkguid="39e27ba1-4c2b-4ab5-9555-003240763552" gruiphraseguid="006557db-8e10-4fb9-9b5e-325992ed5eec">can’t</span> help but think “they probably spent eight bucks in gas to save four bucks <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="on:0" grmarkguid="14378724-b4e5-402f-b4c2-8cb100f31a86" gruiphraseguid="e8934734-7795-461a-abe2-4f4bb57124c5">on</span> breakfast… Don’t lie to yourself Josie that is probably going to be you one <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="day:0" grmarkguid="ac65df1d-6b97-4854-b6a4-ad7b9b4745ef" gruiphraseguid="708b95f2-99c4-40d8-959d-49a670e4eb57">day</span>.” That day is today.&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rf_xT3udu_A/UQwXNrgxXyI/AAAAAAAAAgI/dEo67pfnFJk/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rf_xT3udu_A/UQwXNrgxXyI/AAAAAAAAAgI/dEo67pfnFJk/s1600/photo+(1).JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">As we get to the top of the stairs, the smell of the plastic pre-packaged showrooms hits my nose and I can’t help but sneeze. I realize not <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="one:0" grmarkguid="57ad21cb-dea5-40f7-8255-991f1b8564ae" gruiphraseguid="80f2c787-6b5f-4146-9ef3-a5e3bd1c9425"><span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="one:0" grmarkguid="8357b3a5-cbfc-4399-b505-1f662a3891c7" gruiphraseguid="403d53ad-54e8-4450-868c-308618527257">one</span> person</span> is turning to walk down the IKEA yellow brick road but instead they all <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="turn:0" grmarkguid="50a7cd1c-a5df-427e-8b9a-cb4cc6493de5" gruiphraseguid="a094a495-d8b8-4715-bc78-131204e8dc2c">turn</span> to the right to form another line around the cafeteria. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Two cups of FREE IKEA coffee, brewed in a filter that looks kind of like a<a href="http://www.disposablemedicalexpress.com/id-169/imgupload/19183.jpg"> Depends underwear garment</a>, two slices of bacon, French toast, <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="hashbrowns:0" grmarkguid="0cb84452-b3e8-49ab-a6c6-a868904777b2" gruiphraseguid="52ff52e6-4466-4235-bf3b-b4dfbb20f6c1">hashbrowns</span> and eggs ($3.50, the bacon and French toast were an extra dollar each). I ready to venture down the IKEA highway of no return.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">I’m not going to lie, this isn’t my first IKEA trip - <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="it:0" grmarkguid="6b260e4e-b389-4e68-ae47-15fdd2202f90" gruiphraseguid="e93ebf65-b76b-44d6-a2a7-a35269853bf2">it</span> was my third. So I had already experienced what happens when you step off <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="the:0" grmarkguid="78684fc0-00ba-4d1b-8aaa-039e9e426d18" gruiphraseguid="12d083ee-32ce-487e-860d-4553f5674ae4">the</span> IKEA pathway. The first time I went to IKEA, I was with my mother. We were <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="buying:0" grmarkguid="4bbb328a-6ad7-4144-8633-c88ef25acba8" gruiphraseguid="40ea2552-7b66-4197-b3eb-0b39d482f294">buying</span> a bedspread for my room. I forgot which throw I wanted for the end of <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="my:0" grmarkguid="73131502-3492-4621-8360-d0a497e782bf" gruiphraseguid="528a9e60-cc2a-4d2b-88c7-bf6f813f34f6">my</span><span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="bed:0" grmarkguid="83ab31f6-3d06-426b-afa3-7eddd11364f0" gruiphraseguid="1e8e8fd0-e20e-45ed-a56a-95df61ecc2d0">bed</span> and couldn’t remember what it looked like. I had to run up the stairs from <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="the:0" grmarkguid="fa19c417-a8da-4ad1-979a-bd907e2f85d0" gruiphraseguid="3dc9052f-683a-4cd2-8c4e-36fb3aa0fd18">the</span> IKEA storeroom, and find my way to the bedroom section. I thought I could <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="take:0" grmarkguid="c3007f85-efa7-453d-9e88-01657f611cc7" gruiphraseguid="d507149b-b028-4d05-8bd7-7b4e7f611e6a">take</span> a shortcut but I somehow kept ending up in the Kitchen section.<br /><br />Twenty five <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="slightly:0" grmarkguid="eb51b6e4-3d07-4a96-b25e-514c84f81653" gruiphraseguid="c924bef8-bb4f-4545-ac3e-a5ba4dfd0b94">slightly</span> sweaty minutes later, I made it out of the show room once again with a <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="picture:0" grmarkguid="81afbbc2-5f32-4c53-a15b-91b0a613b6f8" gruiphraseguid="3c4537df-49f0-4219-8cbb-353a976e6854">picture</span> on my phone of the throw I wanted. Then I went back downstairs to find it <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="and:0" grmarkguid="99b21510-e41e-469b-aafc-468c683dbaff" gruiphraseguid="e53d8a13-92d4-405a-8568-dcbbb6a591e6">and</span> inevitably buy it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s no secret why the floor plan of IKEA is similar to a <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="rat:0" grmarkguid="119979d6-a2f9-4de1-84d6-df3f7a1b87af" gruiphraseguid="4bcf2e5f-a357-40a6-8caa-b53deeae06c3">rat</span> maze. On the way to finding my throw, I spotted four more items I missed <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="on:0" grmarkguid="db3f0c86-4757-469e-8471-dfe7ffd0b10c" gruiphraseguid="0e55025b-7b7b-4bf2-9a9e-8763018104db">on</span><span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="my:0" grmarkguid="dd384ef4-a51a-4094-8e44-b0173106c5d2" gruiphraseguid="d6cd1e63-69a4-43b8-8125-895a90f006e1">my</span> first trip around the showrooms. Compared to a store like Leon’s or Sears <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="where:0" grmarkguid="23ccd2a7-e374-468f-a7cf-427e13e81eec" gruiphraseguid="49ac0e12-e929-401e-9605-2dfe932e5963">where</span> there is no flow to which way people walk, what direction to go or what <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="route:0" grmarkguid="a82e7c77-5e49-4ca9-bcb6-a8ae1aa02d11" gruiphraseguid="a26477f8-58cf-431c-a163-25ee3483e351">route</span> to take. At IKEA there is a very specific route, planned route shoppers <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="must:0" grmarkguid="ceb81ef6-3e11-4902-aff8-ca805618210e" gruiphraseguid="5164bfe0-a6e1-4bdc-9421-fcf472e3cf63">must</span> take in order to see the whole store. There is no such thing as quick <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="trips:0" grmarkguid="4a04afd5-54ed-4550-acdd-4ec830aa9880" gruiphraseguid="b2ca0247-cf30-4da0-acec-8b5076021dae">trip</span>&nbsp;to IKEA. It’s a pretty smart marketing strategy. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">&nbsp; <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Today was different from my last experience, I decided to <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="stick:0" grmarkguid="fbb53f5a-4fda-48a9-a27b-48322aa6edc7" gruiphraseguid="b26b6d1f-55f3-48f1-93b8-96731fed044f">stick</span> to the path and try not to buy anything. I noticed most of the people <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="shopping:0" grmarkguid="8bace64c-b1af-4c18-affd-2a0579f8b359" gruiphraseguid="2be7f630-6661-49ed-9e57-0af97bcebb33">shopping</span>&nbsp;at IKEA are retired, middle aged couples. And women <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="phoning:0" grmarkguid="c91f769a-0c30-419a-b8b4-321528262201" gruiphraseguid="3ad38ed4-18c5-4a51-bb42-b515e6709df7">phoning</span> their husbands describing what they’re buying over the phone. I’m sure <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="the:0" grmarkguid="d648a907-bda5-4164-9a28-62d21c683dca" gruiphraseguid="bc700dc0-0017-4ab3-905e-9a34a2532625">the</span> men on the other end of the line were thrilled to receive those calls -<br /><br />“It’s a brownish-black book shelf about three, no, six feet high and five feet <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="wide:0" grmarkguid="0020394c-e255-4bb1-a946-fc09d0dea390" gruiphraseguid="49851cf2-2766-49b3-93bc-063d3848332e">wide</span> and I think it will look just perfect in our living room next to <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="your:1" grmarkguid="18c4e116-1cbf-47c1-a949-7da3553bac00" gruiphraseguid="49851cf2-2766-49b3-93bc-063d3848332e">your</span><span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="chair:0" grmarkguid="26f22e04-dcb1-4131-9a6c-ebb856684e65" gruiphraseguid="116c3567-6dc6-4748-94c5-8b41519e1772">chair</span>. Unless you don’t think so? I don’t know. Do we need another book shelf? I just thought we could put plants on it or whatever. Oh wait. There’s a shorter one over here…”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zNS5T1YlWos/UQwYZREVcyI/AAAAAAAAAgY/TLygkguX0sk/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="380" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zNS5T1YlWos/UQwYZREVcyI/AAAAAAAAAgY/TLygkguX0sk/s1600/images.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.mylot.com/w/photokeywords/ikea+instructions.aspx">An IKEA coffin! What will they think of next?</a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">The couples test out the couches, interact with the <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="cupboards:0" grmarkguid="4d33c0af-2ca5-44eb-ab95-9dfde88e1100" gruiphraseguid="51077373-a7c9-4407-8fab-578c3798fd52">cupboards</span> and open and close the closets multiple times. Some read the serial <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="number:0" grmarkguid="0e0c0020-51e5-41fb-b10a-7153e4147f02" gruiphraseguid="037f98f7-9b67-4a2d-a243-19ab520ae1e9">number</span> out loud, while the other would write it down- “PAX HASVIK number 112333008899888444 and it needs an 11 volt E26 GLODA, two dots above the ‘O’&nbsp;<span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="light:0" grmarkguid="865a01d2-9bfd-4d97-b946-d923ce86d2b8" gruiphraseguid="8fdc2878-58b3-4c66-829b-18fe04a5a875">light</span> bulb”.<br /><br />I heard a lot of “that’s such a good idea”, “I want this for <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="my:0" grmarkguid="66417926-4700-4236-8e2c-458bc7c1d585" gruiphraseguid="c652ac1e-7dad-44f2-bced-ca6f9479b1f9">my</span><span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="house:0" grmarkguid="f04aaa1c-b3d2-4608-abba-fa3157218142" gruiphraseguid="514970bf-47d3-4d33-a8c2-cfb9bb9d78de">house</span>” and “I wish my kitchen looked like this.” A lot of the time I said these things myself.&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Employees are seldom seen at IKEA, especially when you’re <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="looking:0" grmarkguid="7e44ea53-872b-4c5e-abbb-fd395830e3cc" gruiphraseguid="6760b2f2-c285-4d1b-a2a4-92b1c1d64f58">looking</span> for one to ask for directions. But I managed to talk to one. He said every <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="day:0" grmarkguid="919cb801-7c87-4c47-9024-981d61cd5062" gruiphraseguid="eab258f1-3fce-4461-8f9b-4fe8954fcfc2">day</span> is busy at IKEA (I believe it). He also said it has slowed down since <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="the:0" grmarkguid="4d8aec0a-df40-4e32-b1a6-a635e7e34193" gruiphraseguid="6822a34a-9f1d-4212-a7bf-361fa639358a">the</span><span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="grand:0" grmarkguid="97f01c1a-be76-4381-967a-560fc9adaae7" gruiphraseguid="f21e173f-7982-4679-a8ec-d2f3b7695035">grand</span> opening in November, but the weekends <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="are:1" grmarkguid="ae55ba74-8d3b-4a83-9bec-437b1bff3982" gruiphraseguid="f21e173f-7982-4679-a8ec-d2f3b7695035">are</span> still hectic. On my second trip <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="to:0" grmarkguid="e5012329-4ea0-4e6d-a770-1e9f44eb7916" gruiphraseguid="e61c2f69-c7de-4122-8c64-dd8f1d4fc6c4">to</span> IKEA, during boxing week, it took us 45 minutes to park the car. The drive into the parking lot felt similar to a trip to the &nbsp;airport. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">I move from showroom to showroom, my willpower weakening <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="with:0" grmarkguid="0661afe0-5625-47a0-9ad0-6ba124b5721a" gruiphraseguid="70669362-a368-4716-8d58-091a61efdac3">with</span> each step. Oh, this frame is only five bucks! How can I pass that up? It’s <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="only:0" grmarkguid="0423fa9f-2669-4613-88db-84723dfbcb08" gruiphraseguid="a95eb7e0-4f85-41f1-ad93-973bb93fca14">only</span> five bucks. Oh and I <span class="GRnoSuggestion GRcorrect" grcontextid="kinda:0" grmarkguid="2f0c67d6-cd15-4c3d-b2e4-4013c7471ee2" gruiphraseguid="fb532244-172f-44a1-9902-7191609c87df">kinda</span> need another spatula. It’s only three bucks. Toss <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="er:0" grmarkguid="d514caaf-6968-4616-a172-a0579638e176" gruiphraseguid="4ae120f4-9ca8-4742-ba55-7019d8b153f3">er</span>’ in. $100 and an hour and a half later, I left carrying a 4ft canvas with <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="spoons:0" grmarkguid="ed9d2a51-6778-4c5f-98e2-4c80ecd209e0" gruiphraseguid="6128e412-951d-4ed7-9f01-9eb55166cc75">spoons</span> printed on it.<br /><br />Oh, and a hot dog and a Diet Coke for a buck fifty. They got me again with the <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="cheap:0" grmarkguid="00db0d6c-2d4d-40c2-b77e-56d071bdf800" gruiphraseguid="e2fe7b21-43ac-4b47-b768-53b878fd9733">cheap</span> food on the way out. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SngBra18wNs/UQwX5p5fjFI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/AO8Vd5nQLUg/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SngBra18wNs/UQwX5p5fjFI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/AO8Vd5nQLUg/s1600/photo.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="Dones't:0" grmarkguid="113a3f31-02fd-498d-9c37-e23482cc9539" gruiphraseguid="fa8964c4-552c-4de8-a13e-e95023b35535">Dones't</span> my new IKEA picture look great above my couch?!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">So if you ask me if IKEA is going to have a lasting market <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="in:0" grmarkguid="63acccef-f254-46ac-baca-338f5dfaaf5a" gruiphraseguid="6773819d-2795-4778-aeee-a4aa2e0d52a2">in</span> Winnipeg – I say: as long as they keep their meat balls at two bucks a plate, and <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="as:0" grmarkguid="51fccdc8-d9e4-43a7-a096-03d207fd1434" gruiphraseguid="c6862700-f316-4022-8850-1bc28bffea23">as</span> long as there are senior citizens in this city; as long as they have <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="reasonably:0" grmarkguid="60fd15bd-433b-4a19-9244-4f5d077e259c" gruiphraseguid="4532dcc5-0138-4fd7-8705-27eaa391ce5f">reasonably</span> priced household goods and as long as people have a budget to live <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="within:0" grmarkguid="978e324b-c0f4-4c1c-8c2e-af6ed6a2aa40" gruiphraseguid="4ce08074-abbd-4159-943c-4f3a1f77dc1e">within</span>, then yes, IKEA will have probably always have <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="lasting market:1" grmarkguid="4709cdc0-f956-4437-b309-bcb773092f3a" gruiphraseguid="6f070a88-c328-43b9-bfab-e8af7bb76ba8">market</span> here. And everywhere else in the world.&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nvkz55Joo6I/UQwWxskk2GI/AAAAAAAAAgA/sYu3rRGiSrg/s1600/ikea_instructions.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-nvkz55Joo6I/UQwWxskk2GI/AAAAAAAAAgA/sYu3rRGiSrg/s1600/ikea_instructions.jpeg" width="320" /></a>PS. There has been a frame sitting on the floor in my room <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="for:0" grmarkguid="0a369f8c-7a07-403d-bd67-1aed1c60a6d4" gruiphraseguid="1bd392cc-4612-417b-b14e-c24ee3c0f1ec">for</span> the last two months because it didn’t come with instructions. Instead it came <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="with:0" grmarkguid="00b1af34-5c50-4416-959d-0f75ab962a1a" gruiphraseguid="a081dc0e-f38b-496b-a810-4d54206b0af2">with</span> four screws, a metal coil and three hooks with no place to attach any of <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="it:0" grmarkguid="6eaaa9bd-90d0-4fc1-bbd8-d4abd2ba2a98" gruiphraseguid="2540a733-59e3-4849-bb5f-918a75b32335">it</span> to the back of the frame. IKEA instructions are a whole '<span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="nother:0" grmarkguid="4cbfb602-3377-477d-8040-745c1c25317a" gruiphraseguid="dd2ebba1-f9dd-452c-a7ef-ae749940c3a9">nother</span> story.&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-65592537568229393132013-01-25T08:34:00.001-08:002013-01-25T08:58:09.154-08:00Wind Chills and Winnipeg Transit <br />Winnipeg is going through a cold snap - No, this isn't new news.<br /><br />If the CBC hadn't warned me every morning before I left my house - I would have gone on my merry way, wearing four pairs of leggings, a sweater, a <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="hoodie:0" grmarkguid="547066e9-84b3-4b10-80b8-97cac3c19f6d" gruiphraseguid="4bbf57f4-617c-4a3a-9f79-992cae550dc8">hoodie</span>, my winter parka and two pairs of mitts, thinking to myself: This was a normal Winnipeg winter.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-paAhr3Uxgzw/UQKzbDRz3mI/AAAAAAAAAeY/iKThI14-G6U/s1600/cold1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-paAhr3Uxgzw/UQKzbDRz3mI/AAAAAAAAAeY/iKThI14-G6U/s320/cold1.jpg" height="290" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />And in reality is has been a "normal Winnipeg winter"! It's been -44 with the wind-chill for the past four days and that's just something we have to deal with because we <i>choose</i> to live here.<br /><br />Now. I'm not going to rant about the weather. Although, I must say, as a personal side note: Winnipeggers have been doing a good job of sucking it up.<br /><br /><b>I want you to picture this:&nbsp;</b><br /><br />It's dark out (no surprise there, it's winter). Five people standing at a bus stop, shuffling back and forth, checking the oncoming traffic for signs of headlights larger than an average <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="cars:0" grmarkguid="cc4c620c-a1c5-4b28-b85c-98145a88b221" gruiphraseguid="82ddb336-329e-4969-b60f-b4ad529121bb">cars</span>'. But there is no hope. It's 8:09 P.M. The schedule said the number 18 was supposed to be here at 8:06 P.M.<br /><br />The bus is three minutes late. That's not a good sign.<br /><br />The snow starts to form layers on our shoulders and heads. One of the men isn't wearing mitts. The other has his scarf up but his jacket is unzipped and open. I am thanking my parents over and over again in my head for buying me my <a href="http://www.sorelfootwear.ca/Men%E2%80%99s-Caribou%E2%84%A2-Boot/NM1000,en_CA,pd.html">large-and-in-charge men's Sorel boots</a>.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4QlNn7-0Mo0/UQKx17o1k5I/AAAAAAAAAeE/4_kUz_PCaVQ/s1600/photo+(3).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4QlNn7-0Mo0/UQKx17o1k5I/AAAAAAAAAeE/4_kUz_PCaVQ/s320/photo+(3).JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />Ten minutes pass. Another man joins the stop. We're all looking at the ground, knowing the truth but not wanting to talk to each other about it.<br /><br />Eight more minutes go by. By this time, we know:&nbsp;<b>The bus has no-showed.</b><br /><br />After half an hour of waiting in the snow. We finally see the large headlights and the changing sign "North-Main Corydon" blinking off in the distance. &nbsp;We pre-maturely form a line in the predicted area of where the bus will stop. Finally, we hear the screech of the bus's brakes. We all board the bus. Brush off the snow. And pretend like the last half an hour never happened.<br /><br />Thanks Winnipeg Transit. You've been so helpful today.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Etsytku7T98/UQKx-e4owjI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/uMKoIh8yIyc/s1600/photo+(4).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Etsytku7T98/UQKx-e4owjI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/uMKoIh8yIyc/s320/photo+(4).JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is me on the bus after "the wait", giving it a certain finger.&nbsp;</div><br />Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-59366536279620722022013-01-02T20:11:00.001-08:002013-01-02T20:11:45.792-08:00Honest-y is the best policy<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:DocumentProperties> <o:Revision>0</o:Revision> <o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime> 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mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0cm; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;} </style><![endif]--> <!--StartFragment--> <br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was fully prepared to be in charge of making coffee for three weeks during my work placement at Honest Agency. It was my first experience in an agency and as soon as I figured out I was in a room full of graphic designers, I thought "What do I have to offer"? Me, a second year CreComm student who had no idea how an agency&nbsp;<span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="worked:0" grmarkguid="91f9c46b-14b2-4f59-85de-a4438a64b4b9" gruiphraseguid="fa87dddf-ce56-453f-b98f-2a1ce5e35e82">worked</span>.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W1ytKfqHz5A/UOS-0HzlzpI/AAAAAAAAAdE/X0zCjkv_TP0/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-W1ytKfqHz5A/UOS-0HzlzpI/AAAAAAAAAdE/X0zCjkv_TP0/s320/photo.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">I wasn’t nervous, but I was really grateful when head honcho Callum Beattie made&nbsp;me&nbsp;a makeshift desk. I was thankful he threw me a "Josie and the Pussycats" reference. "Yes," I thought, "the boss has a corny sense of humor, I can work with this".<br /><br />I was even more grateful when Charity leaned over from her desk and told me there’s a meeting&nbsp;every&nbsp;Monday morning. To which I responded awkwardly “Thanks<span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="…:0" grmarkguid="d308a69f-016a-4328-aa18-a49df89cc04d" gruiphraseguid="5ccda0a6-465e-4038-be3d-e99d3cf8d758">…</span>for<span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="…:1" grmarkguid="d41a0066-a329-427d-92f6-201d76c2a8a8" gruiphraseguid="5ccda0a6-465e-4038-be3d-e99d3cf8d758">…</span>telling… me?”</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">She smiled. I felt dumb. I now know how <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vg233d9zWWE">Lauren Conrad felt on her first day interning at Teen Vogue</a>.&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Throughout the three weeks, the meetings in the board room were the best part of my day - getting together to brainstorm concepts and ideas with a bunch of creative people. My other favorite part was when head honcho part <span class="GRnoSuggestion GRcorrect" grcontextid="deux:0" grmarkguid="0675c02e-64a1-490c-84e2-ae18699359db" gruiphraseguid="232b75d4-ab5b-478b-b937-441ef0f34827">deux</span>, Sherril Matthes, shared some of the workload she takes on on a daily basis. I was more than happy to help. Friday lunches at the Kings Head <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="laughing:0" grmarkguid="a24b6efb-ff95-4eee-88d3-7885e63a3a5e" gruiphraseguid="42ca73be-0c73-4f8e-a013-65033851875f">laughing</span> at Roberta-isms, Kerri <span class="GRcorrect" grcontextid="teaching:1" grmarkguid="598c55e4-610f-474d-8550-6f08ffeae5e5" gruiphraseguid="42ca73be-0c73-4f8e-a013-65033851875f">teaching</span> me how to use a sewing machine and listening to Jadyn's playlists were some of the added bonuses.<br /><br />By the end, three&nbsp;weeks had flown by. At the Honest "Naughty or Nice" Holiday party, Sherril shimmied&nbsp;her&nbsp;way up to me and taught me her little dance. I knew right then and there I would be stoked to work at an agency like&nbsp;this.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />Overall, I am very thankful Honest decided to take me on as their first CreComm intern. I'm glad I had a positive first experience at an agency.<br /><br />And I'm happy to have made nine new friends.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eRI4hiL2fqo/UOT-EaaAIoI/AAAAAAAAAdU/lZFhVtfylME/s1600/IMG_4813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eRI4hiL2fqo/UOT-EaaAIoI/AAAAAAAAAdU/lZFhVtfylME/s400/IMG_4813.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Thanks yo.&nbsp;</div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div></div><!--EndFragment-->Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-91204986396658036782012-11-29T08:01:00.000-08:002013-01-03T08:42:17.961-08:00Back on that blog game<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2935043397950341167" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="01-05-wpg-christmastree-sg.jpg" border="0" src="webkit-fake-url://05872A31-F545-42D3-9C90-3859A3E40C0D/01-05-wpg-christmastree-sg.jpg" style="cursor: move;" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I know, I know. Good bloggers take a few minutes out of everyday to blog.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />But the truth is, who want to read something that is half hearted posted?</span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />AND, who wants read something that is poorly written? I sure don't.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />So, while my other blog (<a href="http://www.andthenpodcast.wordpress.com/">andthenpodcast.wordpress.com</a>) has been taking up more of my time lately, I decided to let The Dandelion suffer.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />The weather is cold, no, frigid. So I guess it's a good time to get back on that blog game. </span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />Besides summer and fall, the Holiday season in this city is my favourite time of year. I almost like being in Polo Park mall among the insanity of holiday shoppers.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />After my initial anger that a perfectly nice, big, beautiful old tree has just been cut down to be put in front of our tired-looking municipal government building; the Christmas tree in front of City Hall excited me.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />The lights down Portage and Main are so beautiful glowing in the city's darkness at 4:30 PM.</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />And if you haven't experienced the wind-chill in downtown Winnipeg at this time of year, oh, I highly recommend it. Especially if you're going for the my-cheeks-are-so-frozen-that-it-looks-like-I-put-on-an-adorable-amount-of-blush-look.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RmZ3f4ZaLFQ/UOW0qxKCoaI/AAAAAAAAAdk/Eeeg3UMrkxM/s1600/01-05-wpg-christmastree-sg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RmZ3f4ZaLFQ/UOW0qxKCoaI/AAAAAAAAAdk/Eeeg3UMrkxM/s1600/01-05-wpg-christmastree-sg.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2935043397950341167" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="01-05-wpg-christmastree-sg.jpg" border="0" src="webkit-fake-url://05872A31-F545-42D3-9C90-3859A3E40C0D/01-05-wpg-christmastree-sg.jpg" style="cursor: move;" /></a></div><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2935043397950341167" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="01-05-wpg-christmastree-sg.jpg" border="0" src="webkit-fake-url://05872A31-F545-42D3-9C90-3859A3E40C0D/01-05-wpg-christmastree-sg.jpg" style="cursor: move;" /></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span><br /><div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"></span></div><div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://metronewsca.files.wordpress.com/2012/11/01-05-wpg-christmastree-sg.jpg?w=618&amp;h=408&amp;crop=1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There she is.&nbsp;</span></a></div><div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All cynicism aside, Winnipeg does a good job of making the city feel festive despite the weather. And it really is my third favorite time of year in the city.</span></span><br /><h2><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Happy Holidays Winnipeg.&nbsp;</span></span></h2><div style="font-weight: normal;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div></div><div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-84271322870698127222012-11-13T07:49:00.001-08:002012-11-13T07:50:24.971-08:00This song is so Winnipeg<embed style="width:640px;height:400px;" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/go/getflashplayer" src="http://www.mixin.com/assets/swf/SPL.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" align="middle" name="SPL" id="SPL" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" quality="high" wmode="transparent" flashvars="permalinkid=QK8mJJJvaes&videoid=2181154&pubid=513132937&startseconds=0&source=youtube&pt=Fatchat&appmode=embedded&autoplay=false">Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-15187242037860285192012-10-08T11:59:00.000-07:002012-10-08T12:12:15.393-07:00The Key To My Heart- Grandma Marie Today I am going to blog about something personal and close to my heart, my Grandma.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-svyH3tWrcc0/UHMiKNQHe6I/AAAAAAAAAYY/FpapvMpdqf0/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-svyH3tWrcc0/UHMiKNQHe6I/AAAAAAAAAYY/FpapvMpdqf0/s320/photo+2.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br /><br />On October 2nd, <a href="http://passages.winnipegfreepress.com/passage-details/id-195457/name-Marie_Loeppky/min-run-date-1346907600/date-range-month/classification-id-1/order-publish_date%7CDESC,last_name%7CASC,first_name%7CASC/comment-posted/"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Marie (Lynn) Loeppky</span></a> passed away at the age of 90.<br /><br />I was one of the lucky grandchildren who got to live with her, laugh with her, play cards and watch T.V. with her almost every second Friday growing up.<br /><br />My grandma, I'm sure like many other grandmas, was a very special lady.<br /><br />She loved to dance, knit and loved watching the Blue Jays and the Maple Leafs play. She said she didn't like it when her eldest son, my Uncle Don, would tie his tie around his head and dance on tables at weddings, but she laugh and clap her hands anyway.<br /><br />She loved to give us cans Coca-Colas and Revels when we came over visit. She always had Werthers Originals and chalky white mints on the coffee table. Her coo-coo clock from Grandpa would go off every half an hour. She would cheat at Rummy and Hearts by trying to "help" you with your cards.<br /><br />When she lived in her house in St. Norbert, she hated when people would walk on the grass which was always nicely manicured. She met her husband, Neil, at a social in Winnipegosis, Manitoba on New Years Eve in 1946 where they kissed at mid-night and were married a few months later.<br /><br />Her car, a maroon 1978 Malibu, always smelled like moth balls and would make a loud buzzing sound when you open the door without taking out the keys from the ignition. <br /><br />Over the last couple years, Grandma had been in and out of The Victoria General Hospital due to a bad hip, a broken wrist and multiple illnesses. The staff at The Victoria General Hospital were always gracious and caring to her, and for that we are very, very thankful. Thanks especially to Deborah, the nurse, who made very sure she was comfortable, and didn't mind us being in her way in her last few hours. And to Dr. Bruce McLeod, who I'm told, took very good care of her.<br /><br />During her last few days, despite sickness, Grandma remembered who we are and always wanted to make sure we were comfortable even though she was the one in the hospital. She would still offer us Cokes and ice cream, raise her eyebrows and say "Oooooh well" like she always did.<br /><br />Tomorrow, Tuesday October 9th, is her funeral at Trinity United Church (933 Summerside in Fort Richmond) where she was a founding member.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9BLlwqC9WB8/UHMhlpRJ4MI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/_OUBbmno-Ac/s1600/photo+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9BLlwqC9WB8/UHMhlpRJ4MI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/_OUBbmno-Ac/s320/photo+3.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />"<span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px;">Miss me but let me go When I come to the end of the road and the sun has set for me, I want no rites in a gloom filled room. Why cry for a soul set free. Miss me a little, but not too long, and remember the love we once shared. Miss me but let me go. For this is a journey we all must take and each must go alone a step on the road to home. So when you are lonely and sick at heart, go to the friends we knew and bury your sorrow in doing good deeds and never be afraid to hold your head high till we meet again. Love Mom"&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 22px;"><b>We love you and miss you Grandma.&nbsp;</b></span></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-65282072428824528602012-09-18T09:07:00.003-07:002012-09-18T09:08:34.689-07:00Remember This Summer, Winnipeg!I realize that I haven't updated my blog in a really long time and the only thing I can blame it on (besides perhaps some out-of-school laziness) the wonderful Winnipeg summer we just experienced.<br /><br />Remember it? It was really hot and sticky, around 28-35 degrees. People would complain even though we probably shouldn't have because our winters really suck. It was sunny, you had a tan,<br />WE WOULD EAT OUTSIDE ON PATIOS.<br /><br />We would go outside, go to Birds Hill, go to Folkarama, go for long walks at The Forks, Folk Fest, Jazz Fest, Fringe Fest, Wine Fest.<br /><br />Ya... good times.<br /><br />Well it's all over now, so let's talk about it<br /><br />More to come on Winnipeg summers.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sJ2cXnUJFaQ/UFib3QyOU5I/AAAAAAAAAX4/bHbmGLkRqLw/s1600/321340_10150375340242938_233944499_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-sJ2cXnUJFaQ/UFib3QyOU5I/AAAAAAAAAX4/bHbmGLkRqLw/s320/321340_10150375340242938_233944499_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-81486626091535556322012-04-19T15:20:00.000-07:002012-04-19T15:20:55.026-07:00Movie MagicHere is a short film myself and a classmate did in CreComm.<br /><br />We filmed it in various places around Winnipeg: the Exchange District, West-Broadway, off Corydon ave, The&nbsp;Legislative&nbsp;Building and downtown. I like that it makes the city look pretty even though it still kinda cold and dusty out.<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowFullScreen='true' webkitallowfullscreen='true' mozallowfullscreen='true' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/fye6rPVoBaY?feature=player_embedded' FRAMEBORDER='0' /></div><h1 class="top_head" style="background-color: white; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: times, georgia, serif; font-size: 36px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 42px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-align: left; width: 560px;"><br /></h1>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-54656338289710578382012-04-10T12:32:00.001-07:002012-04-10T12:45:45.385-07:00Dionysus in Stony MountainI'm not going to lie, I can't say I'm much of a play-goer. The last time I went to live theatre was at MTYP and I was 12. That's probably&nbsp;why my experience at the Rachel Browne Theatre was drastically different from the last time I went to the theatre.<br /><br />My childhood memories of moving sets, props and music incorporated in each scene were dashed and replaced with boring, mundane talk about the problems of the political and justice system in Canada.<br /><br />The play Dionysus in Stony Mountain, written by&nbsp;<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-size: 15px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Steven Ratzlaff<i>&nbsp;</i>and<i>&nbsp;</i></span></span>directed by Bill Kerr follows the relationship of a prison psychiatrist, Heidi (Sarah Constible) and her patient, James (Ross McMillan).<br /><br />The first scene is spent learning about their relationship, and the second scene is spent learning about Heidi's life outside of her job through discussions with her uncle.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9mScyp4RpXk/T4SHke0bQvI/AAAAAAAAATY/ZVQwRyeXYYI/s1600/Ross+McMillan+Sarah+Constible+Leif+norman+620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9mScyp4RpXk/T4SHke0bQvI/AAAAAAAAATY/ZVQwRyeXYYI/s400/Ross+McMillan+Sarah+Constible+Leif+norman+620.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.cbc.ca/manitoba/scene/theatre/2012/03/30/review-theatre-projects-dionysus-in-stony-mountain-a-thoughtful-meditation-on-justice/">http://www.cbc.ca/manitoba/scene/theatre/2012/03/30/review-theatre-projects-dionysus-in-stony-mountain-a-thoughtful-meditation-on-justice/</a></div><br />The website depicts the play as "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">an unabashedly dense and intellectual play that explores the binding and loosening of family ties, the warehousing of the mentally ill in Canada’s prisons, mania, and the boundaries of the psychiatrist/patient relationship."</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">&nbsp;"Intellectual" seems like an understatement of what the writer and director were going for. I give mad props to the actors for being able to memorize line after line of mass amounts of dialogue. And while I thought James gave a believable performance, the dialogue between characters was not.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">It felt as though I was listening conversation on Gilmore Girls, except instead of talking about relationships and love, the characters spoke of dark, politically charged, Canadian topics, complete with the over use of a thesaurus and quick speaking dialogue.&nbsp;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">If the writer was trying to sound like he was intelligent, progressive and intellectual, then sure, he achieved it. But a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">s for capturing the audience's attention, making the story believable and holding their interests, this is where he lacked. And that is what live theatre is all about.</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">Instead of making the viewer think, which is what he probably wanted, he most likely left most of them only half listening to Jame's five minute monologues on his political views</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">. Or in my case, zoning in and out and only listening half heartedly as the characters moved from subject to subject without really absorbing what they were saying.&nbsp;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;">Over all the characters were intriguing, but the play was not, simply because the writer and director tried way to hard to sound smart and therefore it lacked an emotional connection from the viewer to the story.&nbsp;</span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"><br /></span>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-42683469876725166022012-03-29T10:14:00.000-07:002012-03-29T11:17:42.534-07:00Journey for Justice<br /><div class="MsoNormal">I had never heard of Candace Derksen and “Project Angel” before I read the book Journey for Justice: How Project Angel Cracked the Candace Derksen Case by Mike McIntyre. The murder of then 13 year-old Candace happened four years before I was born, but in recent years, the case came back to life when DNA evidence testing had developed enough to become useful in court. &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Because I had never heard the story of the young girl's death, my initial reaction to the book was shock and curiosity. The author gave plenty of details about the case, the murder and the family, I somewhat morbidly wanted to know more about what happened the night she was killed. I wanted to know why Candace didn’t scream on the night she froze to death in the Elmwood shed, or why she followed her killer in the first place. Of course these details could never be concluded, but I still had some questions regarding the book writing process.&nbsp;<o:p></o:p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RjU5GDp2BXs/T3SPT0aihkI/AAAAAAAAASA/rs8kAVbB16E/s1600/226342_160355380694066_160353244027613_375236_6906018_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RjU5GDp2BXs/T3SPT0aihkI/AAAAAAAAASA/rs8kAVbB16E/s1600/226342_160355380694066_160353244027613_375236_6906018_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">When McIntyre and Candace’s mom, Wilma Derksen, came to the RRC campus to discuss the details of the book, I was looking forward to what they had to say about writing the book together.&nbsp; I wanted to ask about their collaboration and what it was like to sit down and go over the details about the days of Canadace’s initial disappearance. I also wanted to learn about how McIntyre decided on dialogue from the day of her&nbsp;disappearance&nbsp;and the days afterwards. &nbsp;Unfortunately, I didn’t get to ask any of my questions because McIntyre spent much of his time discussing how to write books about murder cases in general.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">McIntyre explained that he wrote the book in segments and didn’t go back through the book to do much editing. This shows in his writing because there is a lot of repetition and re-explanation of places and names that had already been brought up. This made the book redundant and exhausting at times to read, which didn't work well for readability. I like that he paid close attention to detail especially concerning the trial and the jury. Despite the details being a little boring, they were important to explain how high of a profile this case had in Winnipeg and around the world.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BMUM6ZqotDo/T3SPO9Tn_3I/AAAAAAAAAR4/RJZNcGldid0/s1600/228759_160414487354822_160353244027613_375909_4500192_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-BMUM6ZqotDo/T3SPO9Tn_3I/AAAAAAAAAR4/RJZNcGldid0/s320/228759_160414487354822_160353244027613_375909_4500192_n.jpg" width="194" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Journalist can learn from McIntyre's mistake of not going back and doing key edits through out the book, as well leaving out&nbsp;redundancies&nbsp;such as repeating the name of Candace's school and about the pool built in her name at Camp Arnes. Also, because the family and&nbsp;McIntyre&nbsp;worked so&nbsp;closely&nbsp;on the book, it seems like he wrote the book so the family would be pleased with the outcome.&nbsp;McIntyre&nbsp;emphasized their religion and their beliefs which at times were too much for the reader. Journalist who build relationships with the people in their&nbsp;stories&nbsp;should learn to still keep a safe distance so the story's plot does not get lost. And so the story written properly, and not to please the family.&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />The book is similar to McIntyre’s column in The Winnipeg Free Press because he likes to use strong soft leads in his longer columns. The leads grab the interest of the reader, and get them interested in the story.&nbsp;Similarly,&nbsp;<o:p></o:p>I felt McIntyre did a great job with the opening chapter leading into the book. He told the tale of a lonely street cleaner who turned out to be Candace’s killer. He also gave the reader a sense of being in the room when the family panicked about their missing daughter. Like his column, he gives the reader the same amount of details about what police officers do to catch criminals, which allows his readers to understand what officers do.&nbsp;Over all, the book read like a series of news columns which stays true to his style of writing.&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Journey-for-Justice-How-Project-Angel-Cracked-The-Candace-Derksen-Case/160353244027613">http://www.facebook.com/pages/Journey-for-Justice-How-Project-Angel-Cracked-The-Candace-Derksen-Case/160353244027613</a><br /><br />Because I was still curious about Candace Derksen, I decided to call and ask my mom about what she remembered about the case. &nbsp;At the time she didn’t have children, and she had just married my dad a few months earlier.&nbsp;My mom remembered the killer’s name, Mark Edward Grant, easily.&nbsp;She told me she&nbsp;couldn't&nbsp;recall if she remembered the details about the case from back then or from the recent years, but she remembered the feelings she felt when she first heard of Candace’s disappearance.<br /><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">“I was worried there’s a creep out there. You always have to look over your shoulder. But, in retrospect, now that I have children, it would be horrible. There are horrible things that happen in our own backyard, we’re all acceptable of great love and horrible things. There are two sides of humanity.”</div></div>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-66918428368656039122012-03-21T13:37:00.000-07:002012-03-21T13:49:21.419-07:00Get Free Stuff, Check Out Some Magazines.Are you bored? Want <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7; font-size: large;">FREE</span> stuff?<br /><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div>Wanted to eat <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">sushi</span> off a naked body? Pose next to a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Harley</span>? Play street <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">hockey</span>? Listen to some rad <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">music</span>? Watch some stand-up <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">comedy</span>? Drink some <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">free booze</span>? Eat <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">candy</span>? Get on TV (maybe)?&nbsp;</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-irmikMnwQSo/T2o-Nl6x94I/AAAAAAAAARE/saiNv7GJnUU/s1600/FairPoster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-irmikMnwQSo/T2o-Nl6x94I/AAAAAAAAARE/saiNv7GJnUU/s400/FairPoster.jpg" width="313" /></a></div><br /></div><div>You can come do ALL those things at:</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">The Magazine Trade Fair</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-size: x-large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">March 30, 2012 at 160 Princess Street</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">&nbsp;</span></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">(Red River College downtown)</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-size: x-large;">Noon until 4 PM</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></div><div>I know you're probably thinking: "What's the catch? All that stuff is so sweet."&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>I know. It is. And the only reason why we're giving out all that stuff is because we're students trying to show off our magazine project...and to get a good grade in P.R. class for organizing an event.</div><div></div><div>So check it out on your lunch break, drop by if your in the neighbourhood, eat some free food and get free stuff. Roam around check out different booths we've worked very hard on.</div><div>We know you're bored, so you may as well.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div><br /></div></div><div>Here's a sneak peak of our booth at the fair:</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E50y06RdMVE/T2o9zkrUicI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/yO_a7hPzWFk/s1600/UMAMIFINAL-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E50y06RdMVE/T2o9zkrUicI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/yO_a7hPzWFk/s640/UMAMIFINAL-1.jpg" width="504" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-large;">Umami</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-large;">sushi magazine</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">We will have a naked sushi model serving free sushi and copies of Umami PDF's.&nbsp;</div>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-54803602580376906192012-03-20T13:08:00.002-07:002012-03-21T13:07:27.077-07:00Portage PlaceAsk yourself: When was the last time I shopped at Portage Place?<br /><br />For the first time in three years, I went into Portage Place to shop.<br /><br />I snuck by some kids who were playing on the escalator, and hopped on. Walking around the second floor, I remembered why I hadn't visited the mall in such a long time, despite living and attending school near by.<br /><br />There are stores I would shop at, but not very often. Bargain shops in particular. Not to say there's anything wrong with these stores, except, I don't know how many times I would go in to buy questionable canned goods and cleaning products.<br /><br />Four security guards ran by me, while two others discussed what was going on. I wish I was making this up. Really.<br /><br />I probably sound like such a snob. Like maybe I'm too good for bargain shops and for Portage Place in general, but that's not at all true. I love downtown Winnipeg, and try to support it as much as possible, but they aren't making it easy to.<br /><br />I found this<b> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2Tko7LtREE">clip from 1988</a>,</b>&nbsp;about how Portage Place tried to make their stores open 24 hours in order to get more customers to come in. According to the clip, it was a big fail. Which means for over 23 years, Portage Place has been trying and failing.<br /><br /><br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_2Tko7LtREE<br /><br /><br />A few months ago, we had a representative from The Forks come speak to our class about what properties that are managed and owned by The Forks. According to the speaker, The Forks owns the IMAX, which <b><i>LOSES</i></b>&nbsp;thousands of dollars of revenue every year. The only reason why they continue to keep it open is, and I quote, "because we'd rather loose money than see another bargain store go up (in Portage Place)."<br /><br />So what can we do to improve it?<br /><br />Here's what I think:<br /><br /><b>Portage Place needs</b>&nbsp;to put in a Safeway or IGA or something that sells <b>quality foods</b> in order for people living in the surrounding area to buy fresh produce and not canned cheap foods. There is a Safeway down Main street, and a Superstore down Ellice, but I'm guessing a lot of people who live in the area, (like myself) don't have cars, and bussing is hard with groceries.<br /><br />Either Portage Place needs to step it up by getting rid of their dumpy stores, and dying movie theatres and put in more quality restaurants (which would be put to good use on nights when the Jets play or when there's a concert). Or maybe add a store that is no where else in Winnipeg, like <b>Urban Outfitters </b>or<b>&nbsp;H&amp;M</b>, which would force girls like me to go there. Or downsize the mall and make it more business person friendly, like the malls in downtown Vancouver.<br /><br />Here is a fairly accurate representation of what Portage Place is like now... except on warm sunny days, when there usually is lots of people around.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowFullScreen='true' webkitallowfullscreen='true' mozallowfullscreen='true' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/LR9HfF6Agg8?feature=player_embedded' FRAMEBORDER='0' /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Next time you're near the big PP, picture yourself as a downtown innovator, and ask yourself:<br />What does this place need?<br /><br /><b>Maybe you'll be the one to finally save Portage Place.</b><br /><br /><br />Side note: comments have told me there are a few close by food store. So I changed my blog post slightly.<br /><br />Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-67739942065899819932012-02-27T12:19:00.003-08:002012-03-20T13:09:38.358-07:00Prairie Anxiety<div>"I'm from the the prairies, where you can watch you dog run away for a week."</div><div><br /></div><div>This was my go-to line to describe where I was from when I lived and worked in the mountains. What my customers and new friends didn't know was is that I was hardly joking as I recited the line.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div>I realize a lot of people love the wide open spaces of the prairies, and despite being born and raised here, there are times when I can't STAND the vastness of the land.<br /><div><br /></div><div>Don't get me wrong, I know how lucky I am to have so much space especially after visiting other countries. But it's something about looking to the horizon, and seeing a few buildings marking the city center way off in the distance that makes me feel uneasy.&nbsp;</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fKHNUSJGZAU/T0vkhp9jc3I/AAAAAAAAAPM/LfbIDobXEv4/s1600/423114_10151312648920483_860195482_22723234_63450478_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fKHNUSJGZAU/T0vkhp9jc3I/AAAAAAAAAPM/LfbIDobXEv4/s320/423114_10151312648920483_860195482_22723234_63450478_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Last week was reading week, and I jumped at the opportunity to high tail it out of here to head West. It was the first time in years that I drove to Alberta rather than flying.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>As soon as we got into Banff, I immediately felt like I was home, despite my home never really being in the&nbsp;Rockies. I love the feeling of being confined. I love being able to see the outline of the mountains traced in the sky by the moonlight.</div><div><br /></div><div>But let's not get overly poetic here.</div><div><br /></div><div>Truthfully, I don't mind winter. I don't mind being outside... If I'm bundled up without any skin showing.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>Since moving back the prairies I feel as though I am at a loss for winter activities, whereas before I could get up, go for a few runs at the hill and then head to work. Going to a "hill" anywhere near Winnipeg is hardly worth it, by the time you do up your bindings your fingers are frozen and 30 seconds later you're back on the chair. It's the worst.&nbsp;</div><div><br /></div><div>*Sigh* I guess I'll have to continue to tide myself over by visiting BC and Alberta every once in awhile until the prairies grow some hills.&nbsp;</div>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-46561975864767750482012-02-13T18:28:00.000-08:002012-02-13T19:40:21.900-08:00Downtown WPG Documentary Vs Podcast IPPFor the many of you that don't know, an IPP or an Independent Personal Project, is an assignment which all Creative Communication student must do in their second year at Red River College.<br /><br />It is described as "a chance to showcase the skills and&nbsp;abilities&nbsp;you have learnt in the program, and is an&nbsp;opportunity&nbsp;to do something that you otherwise would never have had the chance to do if it weren't for the program." -Most of the CreComm Instructors<br /><br />A lot of students like to throw fund raisers and benefits. It's also common for students to write books, novels and blogs, and make Podcasts, documentaries and Apps. I can't say I'm much different from the other students.<br /><br />My two ideas for an IPP are either&nbsp;A) a Documentary&nbsp;or B) a Podcast.<br /><br />Real original, I know.<br /><br />But hear me out...<br /><br />Downtown Winnipeg Doc: I know you've read about it, talked about it and are sick to death about hearing about it, probably because you don't go there anymore unless there is a Jets game, but the goal of my doc would be to rectify the negative stigma which many people have attached to their idea of downtown Winnipeg.<br /><br /><img height="190" src="http://www.truwinnipeg.org/wp-content/uploads/2007/02/portage-ave.jpg" width="320" /><br /><a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?q=deserted+downtown+winnipeg&amp;um=1&amp;hl=en&amp;biw=1366&amp;bih=667&amp;tbm=isch&amp;tbnid=1pSBkZ9MlEJdCM:&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.truwinnipeg.org/page/17/&amp;docid=a5jc7LVlxYXGlM&amp;imgurl=http://www.truwinnipeg.org/wp-content/uploads/2007/02/portage-ave.jpg&amp;w=567&amp;h=337&amp;ei=jdA5T922PImsgwfWpPSYCw&amp;zoom=1&amp;iact=rc&amp;dur=593&amp;sig=114919910686894199331&amp;page=7&amp;tbnh=117&amp;tbnw=197&amp;start=140&amp;ndsp=24&amp;ved=1t:429,r:5,s:140&amp;tx=111&amp;ty=49">Old School</a><br /><br />I would like to interview people involved in the Downtown Biz, The MTS Centre, The Forks and 5468796 (Barcode) architecture firm, as well as people who live or work downtown.<br /><br />However, in the words of my loving boss "Talking about change in downtown Winnipeg is like beating a dead horse."<br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><img height="301" src="http://images.mmorpg.com/features/6057/images/DeadHorse2_t.jpg" width="320" /><br /><a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?q=dead+horse&amp;start=42&amp;num=10&amp;um=1&amp;hl=en&amp;biw=1366&amp;bih=667&amp;tbm=isch&amp;tbnid=0pCizbH3qzprkM:&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.mmorpg.com/showFeature.cfm/loadFeature/6057&amp;docid=-46VymYrsy26QM&amp;imgurl=http://images.mmorpg.com/features/6057/images/DeadHorse2_t.jpg&amp;w=425&amp;h=400&amp;ei=G9E5T7PvDYn6ggfv0siZCw&amp;zoom=1&amp;iact=hc&amp;vpx=1094&amp;vpy=163&amp;dur=11&amp;hovh=218&amp;hovw=231&amp;tx=166&amp;ty=90&amp;sig=114919910686894199331&amp;sqi=2&amp;page=3&amp;tbnh=148&amp;tbnw=156&amp;ndsp=24&amp;ved=1t:429,r:17,s:42">(Google-ing "Dead horse images" was a bad idea).</a><br /><br />Plan B) Podcast<br /><br /><br />Ideally, my Podcast would be modeled after CBC's Q. Instead of interviewing famous actors, singers and bands, I would interview bands from across Canada who are passing through Winnipeg on their summer Canadian tour. Or do a series of phone interviews, with a few songs from the band's EP or album. And finally, instead of a witty&nbsp;Jian Ghomeshi as the host, listeners get me, Josie Loeppky :).<br /><br />I would market the show, turn it into a brand and make it&nbsp;into a series people can download for free or listen to it on 92.9 KICK FM.<br /><br />I would love to get feedback on my ideas because I would like to make something that people would actually listen to or watch, and to really "showcase" my skills.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LYkjd2rw7Jg/TznSIRLQaSI/AAAAAAAAAPA/-Or_TDiUaes/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LYkjd2rw7Jg/TznSIRLQaSI/AAAAAAAAAPA/-Or_TDiUaes/s320/006.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><br />Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-83683827268750528892012-02-07T13:21:00.000-08:002012-02-13T19:40:21.961-08:00What's next?<br />Six months ago, I came into this program so excited about the idea of finding a career for the rest of my life.<br /><br />A way out of serving tables. Not that I dislike serving, and not that I'm bad it. But to find a way of earning a living by putting some of my creativity to use.<br /><br />Lots of people talk about the stresses of CreComm and the crazy amount of homework we get every week. I don't mind the work load, and I don't mind school being most of my life.<br /><br />It's the amount of stress put on deciding a major that is starting to get to me. When an instructor tells me I should decide how I want my life to look like in the next five to ten years, if I want to work 9-5 or evenings and weekends, I start to panic.<br /><br />I know this is where I want to be, but the idea of having to decide a big part of my future in a week and a half is&nbsp;beginning&nbsp;to wear on me.<br /><br />I know this isn't a blog about Winnipeg, perhaps someone out there can relate? #CreComm<br />Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-89766566812685902102012-01-27T18:00:00.000-08:002012-02-13T19:40:21.970-08:0092.9 KICK FMRecently, I started my own radio show on Winnipeg's Indie Station 92.9 KICK FM.<br /><br />Sadly, a week after my first show the CRTC announced that they will be evaluating KICK in order to determine whether or not they will to continue to fund the station.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SnkD2AjNCuc/TydzG01EreI/AAAAAAAAAOo/PSpRVvriugs/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SnkD2AjNCuc/TydzG01EreI/AAAAAAAAAOo/PSpRVvriugs/s320/004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />Despite only having done two episodes, I have can honestly say I have never felt so at home with doing something that is completely new and&nbsp;foreign&nbsp;to me.<br /><br />The station manager, Rick, taught us how to use the sound board, choose songs and answer calls (if anyone was to ever call) and then he left us to take the wheel.<br /><br />I always had a love for radio, as a kid I loved the drive to school in the morning listening the&nbsp;witty&nbsp;banter of Beau, Tom and Fraiser on Q94.<br /><br />And then as I got older, the more my love for CBC grew. I was so proud of myself when I was picked as letter of the day by Jion Ghomeshi on Q.<br /><br />Now, to have my own show, even though it's only on a college station, is a small dream of mine come true.<br /><br />I know it sounds cheesy to say, but when you know you love to do something, you just know.<br />The first day I sat down with headphones on my ears, and a mic in my face, I just knew.<br /><br />It would be a sad day if or when KICK gets closed down, and other kids like me&nbsp;couldn't&nbsp;for fill&nbsp;their small dreams too.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EAzLbVz-0CE/TydzezDIxiI/AAAAAAAAAOw/S-Ue_9sJlEM/s1600/014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EAzLbVz-0CE/TydzezDIxiI/AAAAAAAAAOw/S-Ue_9sJlEM/s320/014.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Until then...<br /><br />Check out my show<br /><br />"ALMOST FRIDAY"<br />THURSDAYS 3-5 PM<br />WITH JOSIE, SARAH AND THE HYPE GIRL.<br />on 92.9 KICK FM<br /><br />OR&nbsp;<a href="http://kick.fm/listenlive">http://kick.fm/listenlive</a><br /><img src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NmW4Z4H-_BU/Tql4YElxHEI/AAAAAAAAAD0/UXbWEicoO_g/kicksoapstoned.jpg" />Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-22687279089579274782012-01-20T11:53:00.000-08:002012-02-13T19:40:21.880-08:00It's cold outsideWinnipeg winter, we can blog about it, whine about it and talk about it some more. Some may say its a Winnipegger's favourite subject.<br /><br />But no matter who you talk to; your grandma, your neighbour, a complete stranger on the bus. We all have a common bond of shared hatred: the cold weather.<br /><br /><br />Its been minus 40 the past couple days. It's days like this week when walking to your car, just a few short blocks, become unbearable. <br /><br />When you get an instant brain freeze one step outside your door, not because you're drinking a slurpee, but because your toque isn't covering your forehead enough (but there is a good chance you may also have a slurpee in your hand).<br /><br />My question is; what keeps us going? <br /><br />When I lived in Fernie, I didn't mind the cold weather because at least I had the mountain to go slide on. <br /><br />Here, some people ice skate or snowmobile to pass the winter months. <br /><br />Or if you're like my dad, shoveling the drive way becomes a hobby. <br /><br /><br />So, how bout' that weather eh? <br /><br />Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-60347599437448459212012-01-16T18:51:00.000-08:002012-02-13T19:40:21.911-08:00Slurpees in -30On our very cold drive home from Sunday dinner last night, my sister pointed out the window to two kids who were bundled up from head to toe.<br /><br />They were each carrying Slurpees, and walking backwards to the chilly winter wind.<br /><br />My sister laughed and said "Only in Winnipeg."<br /><br />True enough, sometimes you just need a Slurpee no matter how cold it gets.<br /><br /><br /><img height="300" src="http://farm1.staticflickr.com/63/187790369_9102cff343_z.jpg" width="400" /><br /><a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?q=slurpee+capital+of+the+world&amp;um=1&amp;hl=en&amp;sa=N&amp;biw=1366&amp;bih=667&amp;tbm=isch&amp;tbnid=pm2j4aX_9DxVTM:&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.flickr.com/photos/kidcontinuity/187790369/&amp;docid=iLdc4cpfpm25ZM&amp;imgurl=http://farm1.staticflickr.com/63/187790369_9102cff343_z.jpg&amp;w=640&amp;h=480&amp;ei=h-EUT5-1NYfegQetocTIAw&amp;zoom=1&amp;iact=hc&amp;vpx=605&amp;vpy=362&amp;dur=165&amp;hovh=194&amp;hovw=259&amp;tx=189&amp;ty=167&amp;sig=114919910686894199331&amp;page=3&amp;tbnh=147&amp;tbnw=196&amp;start=43&amp;ndsp=24&amp;ved=1t:429,r:2,s:43">Slurpee Capital of the World</a><br /><br />Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-91595002339201179752012-01-12T13:33:00.000-08:002012-02-13T19:40:21.974-08:00Getting out of 204Not so long ago, I used to vow to myself that I would "get out of this frozen-dump-of-a-city if it's the last thing I do!"<br /><br /><div>Eventually, I did end up leaving the Winnipeg, but the contempt I felt for my city when I was 17 didn't last as long as I thought it would.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, with the end of my post-secondary education in sight, and the very real option of leaving the city for good (or at least for a real job) is a possible actualization, I'm not so sure about leaving after-all.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jh3tkyxEPW4/Tw9KD6Qi-CI/AAAAAAAAAMY/5mfXNHuMqZA/s1600/013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jh3tkyxEPW4/Tw9KD6Qi-CI/AAAAAAAAAMY/5mfXNHuMqZA/s320/013.jpg" width="179" /></a></div>I used to feel angry with my family for not wanting to leave the city, for not wanting to live in warmer places like Vancouver or Toronto.<br /><br />I used to not understand why kids my age didn't want to move out of their parents basement, and go travel to&nbsp;foreign&nbsp;countries for months on end.<br /><br />After my first year university, I couldn't <i>wait</i> to be <i>anywhere</i> but here.<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_eRJm-7ylQs/Tw9L4OjpQwI/AAAAAAAAAMg/BICRi6cxzfI/s1600/17868_249188197937_513132937_4354271_4525930_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_eRJm-7ylQs/Tw9L4OjpQwI/AAAAAAAAAMg/BICRi6cxzfI/s320/17868_249188197937_513132937_4354271_4525930_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />That said, it was one thing to leave when all my things were still in my parents house, and my permanent address still read&nbsp;"Winnipeg, Manitoba" on it.&nbsp;</div><div><br />Just a few short blocks away are friends that I've gone to school with since grade two, they still live in the same house that their parents bought as newly weds.<br /><br />I used to knock them for not wanting to break free of the grasp Winnipeg had on them, for not wanting to move out of their beautiful River Heights homes, and into their own dingy apartments in Osborne Village.<br /><br />But as I sit in my own dingy apartment, eating noodles and collecting dept. Frequently visiting the LC to buy the cheapest bottle of wine possible, I look back at my 17 year old self and laugh.<br /><br />Winnipeg ain't so bad.<br /><br />My whole family is here; when I don't have enough money for food or laundry, my mom comes to get me.<br /><br />When I'm feeling stressed or lonely, I have several friends within blocks from me, who no matter how cold it gets, are willing to meet me at the Toad for a drink.<br /><br />And yeah, it's cold. Really, really effing cold. &nbsp;And yeah, there are pot holes, the buses run late, and sometimes downtown gets sketchy. But the people are nice, there are plenty of job opportunities, and family and friends are always near-by (if you're born and raised like I am).<br /><br />So I guess I've searched, and maybe I'm getting old or something, but nesting in Winnipeg doesn't sound so bad to me anymore.<br /><br />That said, a hot vacation out of here&nbsp;never hurt anyone.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_X4Q3Bd5kvo/Tw9Ouev_2QI/AAAAAAAAAMo/4YwfC1VGN3c/s1600/081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_X4Q3Bd5kvo/Tw9Ouev_2QI/AAAAAAAAAMo/4YwfC1VGN3c/s640/081.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div></div></div>Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-72411266177007296132011-12-01T07:49:00.001-08:002012-02-13T19:40:21.942-08:00NOT a retractionDue to the overwhelming number of blog views and comments good and bad, I received on my last post "Dating in Winnipeg," I am not writing a retraction but rather a clarification. <br /><br />First and foremost, the last post had nothing whatsoever to do with my current personal life. However, this is a blog and the last post, like any other post, is my opinion. I was simply generalizing the sentiment felt by some single women in my life and whom I've spoken with. <br /><br />In my first "case study" I can see how people may think that I was being shallow by stating that some guys get multiple-girls despite being "average." But this was not the point I was trying to make. <br /><br />I was trying to say that girls shouldn't settle for guys who won't commit to them, nor should they settle for guys that don't treat them as well. Not just pretty girls, as one comment said, but all girls. Or rather all people.<br /><br />My next point is that dating is hard, no matter where you live. But add minus 30 degrees, and less males than females in the city and see how that equates.<br /><br />Lastly, of course my friends are amazingly beautiful, fun, smart and funny; but so are you. Not to give a Barney the Dinosaur style lesson, but it's true. So there is no reason for anyone to not believe that they aren't.<br /><br />Good luck out there ladies (and guys), and to quote the book one last time "don't waste the pretty."<br /><br /><br />Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2935043397950341167.post-29619830640855336992011-11-24T06:57:00.001-08:002017-03-02T07:15:09.311-08:00Dating in Winnipeg: The only thing worse than Winnipeg winter.<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="153" id="il_fi" src="http://www.palijatt.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/98464890-32b116f1046.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="200" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?q=love%20winter&amp;um=1&amp;hl=en&amp;rls=com.microsoft:en-ca&amp;biw=1366&amp;bih=563&amp;tbm=isch&amp;tbnid=w-c8arjTTIYK2M:&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.palijatt.com/blog/&amp;docid=MI4pJyoFIZITPM&amp;imgurl=http://www.palijatt.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/98464890-32b116f1046.jpg&amp;w=500&amp;h=383&amp;ei=SKbQTo2nK4jo0QH_u_UN&amp;zoom=1&amp;iact=hc&amp;vpx=431&amp;vpy=186&amp;dur=109&amp;hovh=196&amp;hovw=257&amp;tx=163&amp;ty=71&amp;sig=101093711640068738276&amp;page=1&amp;tbnh=157&amp;tbnw=217&amp;start=0&amp;ndsp=10&amp;ved=1t:429,r:1,s:0">barf</a></td></tr></tbody></table><br />With no special guy to warm you up coming in from the minus 40 degree weather outside, and no one to stay in with you on a Friday night because the windchill is so unbearable: the only thing worse than Winnipeg winter, is being cold AND single&nbsp;AND&nbsp;living in&nbsp;Winnipeg. <br /><br /><br />The last chapter of the book,&nbsp;"He's Just Not That Into You," tells the age old tale of&nbsp;women who date&nbsp;guys who are jerks because it's hard for women to find men, and because it sucks to be single.<br /><br />The female&nbsp;co-author says&nbsp;what most of&nbsp;women are afraid of:&nbsp;there are&nbsp;"statistics" that there aren't nearly as many good&nbsp;men in this world as there are women, lots of women settle. <br /><br />I personally&nbsp;think Winnipeg could be a case study for that "statistic". If you have&nbsp;read my older blog post about how Winnipeg is known for&nbsp;its good looking women, you will find actual statistics about how there are more women than men in this city. And despite many of them&nbsp;being&nbsp;very good looking women, some often settle for jerks who aren't half as good as they are. <br /><br />As living, breathing proof, and the daughter of living, breathing proof, for a number of years; being single in this city is hard.<br /><br />Here&nbsp;are my case studies: <br /><br />Just like how most stories start, I have a friend who dated a guy.<br /><br />The guy was nothing special; short, athletic,&nbsp;decent job, outgoing but drank too much. You know? The&nbsp;basic criteria that&nbsp;the female&nbsp;species&nbsp;looks for&nbsp;in a male counterpart.<br /><br />&nbsp;He would hang out with her whenever she wanted, but there was no&nbsp;commitment. How could you blame the guy? He was young, fun and decent looking,&nbsp;AND&nbsp;he had girls blowin' up his phone all the time. <br /><br />So why would he commit to this beautiful, smart, young, successful girl, when he could have other girls, whenever he wanted, despite being only fairly average? Because he is a big fish in a small pond, and that pond is Winnipeg. <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img height="307" id="il_fi" src="http://image.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/55550/55550,1229293528,2/stock-photo-young-happy-smiling-couple-in-love-winter-22028350.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.google.ca/imgres?q=love%20winter&amp;um=1&amp;hl=en&amp;rls=com.microsoft:en-ca&amp;biw=1366&amp;bih=563&amp;tbm=isch&amp;tbnid=UJnEDG_0VAquaM:&amp;imgrefurl=http://www.shutterstock.com/pic-22028350/stock-photo-young-happy-smiling-couple-in-love-winter.html&amp;docid=rzovszKZ13RkZM&amp;imgurl=http://image.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/55550/55550,1229293528,2/stock-photo-young-happy-smiling-couple-in-love-winter-22028350.jpg&amp;w=450&amp;h=346&amp;ei=SKbQTo2nK4jo0QH_u_UN&amp;zoom=1&amp;iact=hc&amp;vpx=763&amp;vpy=246&amp;dur=202&amp;hovh=197&amp;hovw=256&amp;tx=115&amp;ty=130&amp;sig=101093711640068738276&amp;page=15&amp;tbnh=169&amp;tbnw=220&amp;start=162&amp;ndsp=12&amp;ved=1t:429,r:3,s:162">Snowey Love, Hurrah!</a></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I have a couple friends who are&nbsp;young, super cool, smart&nbsp;and really pretty. They turn to Plenty of Fish dating site, for lack of meeting new men the old fashioned way; through friends, at hot dog stands,&nbsp;and at socials. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br /></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Plenty of Fish,&nbsp;according to popular&nbsp;rumours, is&nbsp;used by&nbsp;scuzzy men to find women, sleep with them and then never call them again. I'm sure not all men are taking advantage of this site, and I do know of a few success stories. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br /></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">However, if these amazingly fun, cool, young women can't find success through a site, what&nbsp;chance&nbsp;do they &nbsp;have at&nbsp;finding&nbsp;Mr. Right&nbsp;the non-electronic way?</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br /></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">I am far from being bitter,&nbsp;but after years of listening to my friends and family try&nbsp;everything from dating sites to night clubs to school libraries, I&nbsp;can see how&nbsp;frustrating it is to be single in this very cold, very small&nbsp;city. </div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br /></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">Love can be found even when you can't feel your fingers, it just might take a bit more searching. And mittens. </div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AvT5OE7V-kQ/TtFuh_OZp1I/AAAAAAAAAMM/maCO5Xyka3U/s1600/d94b989e11fa11e1a87612313804ec91_7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" hda="true" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AvT5OE7V-kQ/TtFuh_OZp1I/AAAAAAAAAMM/maCO5Xyka3U/s320/d94b989e11fa11e1a87612313804ec91_7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><br />SIDE NOTE: Because of the many comments,&nbsp;please understand that I was not blogging to give a dating lesson, nor do I need any dating lessons. Just simply generalizing the sentiment felt by some single women. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />Josie Loeppkyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00090111713249309167noreply@blogger.com33Winnipeg, MB, Canada49.8997541 -97.137493749.5721426 -97.7829407 50.227365600000006 -96.492046699999989